<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Good Girl: In the Beginning... by ionlyjoinedforfanfic</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27133831">The Good Girl: In the Beginning...</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionlyjoinedforfanfic/pseuds/ionlyjoinedforfanfic'>ionlyjoinedforfanfic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Good Girl [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wolverine (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:35:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,656</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27133831</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionlyjoinedforfanfic/pseuds/ionlyjoinedforfanfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You are a typical good girl, shy and retiring, polite and always wanting to please. When fate brings Donald Pierce into your life, you are intimidated and captivated in equal measure. Part 1 of the series covers your first meeting with Donald, your first date and your first time together.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Donald Pierce/Reader, Donald Pierce/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Good Girl [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982072</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Drinks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally published on tumblr, this was my very first endeavour into fanfiction and still one I am really passionate about. The work began as interconnected one shots but has developed into more episodic chapters. This part, as many later instalments, focusses on the domestic relationship but later the series does look at Donald's work with Transigen and mutants.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You are out at a bar with your girlfriends and meet the terrifying and handsome Donald Pierce.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You tied your hair in a messy bun to offer some relief from the sweltering heat, but fallen strands clung to your neck as beads of perspiration gathered. It was worse at the bar were the sticky elbows of patrons nudged, not seeming to move or react to your presence. Attention all focussed on the screens above. A big game? Possibly. Joe’s was always busy, it attracted a variety of clientele – the ol’ guys chewing the fat, the college kids shooting pool, or those just wanting to decompress after a long week. It was the kind of place that was never really in style so never went out of fashion. Offering a welcome to all. Tonight, however the crowd seemed to overrun your favourite haunt, that, and the suffocating heat. </p><p>The waitress offered to carry your drinks to the table. Debbie, late 40s – she looked as frazzled as you, but she had the whole shift ahead of her, so you politely declined, and she gave a half nod of gratitude.  It would take two trips, but you’d decided to be careful and only take two at a time.</p><p>On tiptoes you strained over the crowd to get a view of your table and the thirsty girls waiting. You scanned the area, saw your gap and plotted your route. Snaking through people you were two third of the way there when the room erupted. The roar of the cheer had little impact, but the movements caused by the celebratory embrace of two bulky sport fans knocked you midstride and catapulted you forward. You managed to recover your footing, but the contents of the glasses flew ahead hitting the floor and drenching an unsuspecting figure in front of you.</p><p>“Oh my…Oh my…I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…” Your remorse instant and automatic. You had yet to see his face but you saw the soaked t-shirt and combats and heard the string of expletives leave his mouth.</p><p>Apologies continued to fall from you lips as you finally made eye contact. Your face burned and felt hotter still when you saw him scowling down at you. He was broad and tall, over 6ft, a tattoo of skull and crossed swords emblazed his neck which seemed only to double the scrutiny its owner. A gold tooth glared through bared teeth and all your apologies died with a whimper in your throat.</p><p>You stood readying yourself for his wrath to be unleashed but you must have looked so pathetic (red and sweaty and full of fear) because when he got a full look at you his expression softened, his blue eyes lightened and a small smirk appeared.</p><p>“It’s ‘k baby, no real harm.” His southern drawl sweet and inviting and at complete odds with his appearance. He grabbed at his shirt, pulling away from his torso, flexing the tanned muscles in his forearm. “Though, you got me good there honey!”</p><p>“Oh I am terribly sorry…It’s just…just I got knocked, pushed… let me get you a cloth or something…”</p><p>Debbie appeared. Any good grace you had garnered with her was long gone like your drinks and dignity. You bowed your head and muttered a feeble ‘sorry’ once more not really knowing to who it was intended. It earned a chuckle from one and a sigh from the other.</p><p>“New drinks, hun?”</p><p>“Yes. Please. Thank you. And whatever this gentleman wants. It’s the least I can do.”</p><p>Another chuckle.</p><p>“Gentleman?” He clicked his tongue on his teeth and cocked his head to the side, “Well, since you put it like that.” He hummed whilst raising his right hand to smooth his chin with mechanical fingers.</p><p>Whatever reaction you had was interrupted by Debbie who ushered you to your table and told you she’d take care of it in a way that didn’t invite protest. The girls welcomed you back with giggles and mocking cheers and all you could do was bury your head in your hands out of pure mortification.</p><p>As the night drew on, the crowds and the heat dissipated and though the girls continued to tease you for your lack of poise and balance you were beginning to have a good time. Again and again, you would glance over toward the guy. He’d caught your gaze when your first did it, raised his glass and gave a nod to let you know things were cool between you. Since then he’d gone back to his friends watching the game and playing pool seeming to have forgotten all about his alcohol stained shirt. You on the other hand couldn’t seem to drag your eyes or thoughts away from him.</p><p>From a safe distance you studied him more. Fear and shame giving way to fascination. His sandy coloured hair was short but messy (sticking up from a combination of sweat and him running his fingers through it), a rough beard covered his face, and defined muscles retreated under his tight shirt or were replaced by robotic steel. The guys he was with were all decked out in black army fatigues and combat boots. They looked like military, but you didn’t get much of that round here. Then there was the tatts and piercings and one guy with a mohawk. Bikers maybe? They looked dangerous. He looked dangerous. But attractive. God, he was attractive. And those eyes, that voice…</p><p>“Oh just go talk to him!” Krissy demanded. You thought you were being subtle, but she’d known you since school and of course she’d pull you on it. You shrugged it off with an I have no idea what you’re talking about smile and, other than another burst of teasing, conversation soon turned back to usual topics. When you gave a final look in his direction the group had gone and you’d regretted not listening to Krissy and swallowing your embarrassment.</p><p>From behind, you heard a familiar voice.</p><p>“Hi ladies, how y’all doing?” Silence befell you usually chatty friends as they looked to him standing next to your table, a wide smile exposing his golden tooth. “Y’mind if I steal your friend for a minute?”</p><p>Krissy and the rest nodded between giggles and blushes and it was comforting to know that it wasn’t just you that was affected by his presence.</p><p>You left your chair and moved a little away. You could see a couple of his burly comrades near the exit. Waiting patiently. Like a dog for its owner.</p><p>“I’m sorry about before...” You began but he cut you off with a shake of the head and tutted as he wagged his finger.</p><p>“Now no need for that. You’ve already given enough ‘I’m sorrys’, don’t sweat it. Though you may wanna give that waitress a good tip!” He chuckled at his own joke. His words were smooth and confident which caused your thoughts to lighten and eyes to lower. He took control of the moment, confidence and charm radiated from him, and it was this that was more powerful and impacting than the intimating façade. “But I was thinking that maybe, with you feeling all obliged to me an all, that I might try my luck.”</p><p>There was a pause whilst your searched for the meaning of his utterance. Though the air was much cooler now, heat and redness spread across your cheeks.</p><p>“I was thinking maybe we could go out. Get a drink together.”</p><p>“Oh!”</p><p>“I’m on the road but I’m back this way next week if you wanna give me your number.”</p><p>Your eyes darted between your friends, the floor, but then you found his eyes. His fearlessness sparking something within. You remembered Krissy’s words and the feeling of disappointment when you thought he’d left. Take a leap. Be bold.</p><p>“Sure, give me your phone.” You added your details and he glanced down at them before giving you a final smile. He spun on his heels and headed for the door lifting his hand to you and the girls with goodbye.</p><p>“Wait, erm what’s your name?” You were tiptoed, straining to be heard over the distance he quickly put between you.</p><p>“Donald, Donald Pierce.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Holding Hands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A brief glimpse into your first date with Donald.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A short chapter, originally intended as a flashback in the next part - it didn't quite fit, but it was too good not to include.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You’d been reluctant to ask about his arm for fear of being insensitive, but it was difficult not to stare and, in the end, he was the one who brought it up. Now you held the cold, metal limb between your own two fleshy hands, turning it this way and that, closely examining the mechanical nature and movement of it. At first you’d asked a few questions but you’d gotten lost, entranced by its inner workings and now were silent. A chuckle from Donnie broke your trace and you quickly let go of his hand and lowered your gaze to the table, heat pooled at your cheeks.</p><p>“That was rude, I’m sorry.”</p><p>His blue eyes remained soft as he shook his head.</p><p>“Bet you’ve never been out with a cyborg before.” he jested.</p><p>“Well, no.” You took a sip from your drink, “But then I’ve never been out with a guy who has a neck tattoo either.” You gave a coy smile as you pointed in the direction of black skull that covered his neck, dark and menacing, accompanied by two equally fierce crossed swords and a sliver of gold from the chain that grazed Donnie’s collar bone.</p><p>This drew another chuckle.</p><p>“Scary huh?” He cocked his head quizzically.</p><p>“Um no, I mean…” Your tone wasn’t entirely convincing as you thought back to the first time you saw Donnie, severe and scowling. “It’s a particularly look.” you settled.</p><p>“Doesn’t hurt in my line of work,” he shrugged. He’d told you that he used to be in the army but now was in private security. “But really it’s just the result of youth and too much tequila.”</p><p>You giggled, “Interesting story?”</p><p>He wagged his finger and shook his head, “Aw no, no. No details. I’m not goin’ make a fool of myself on a first date!”</p><p>Laughter and butterflies filled you stomach, thinking of how you often felt like the fool in his presence.</p><p>“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever been out with anyone who has any tattoos.” you confessed. He was silent. He reclined back in his seat and took another sip from his beer. The large gold ring on view in the shape of a skull as intimidating as the one on his neck. “Doesn’t that surprise you?”</p><p>“Not really.” Another sip of beer, eyes surveying you, making the blush in your cheeks deepen. “I took you for a good girl.”</p><p>“Oh, so I have a particular look?”</p><p>He smirked and nodded, “Yeah, but I like it.”  Then he leaned forward and took your hand in his.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Night In</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You and Donald are intimate for the first time.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You’d only seen Donnie a couple of times since you’d met and that was spread over months. He was away with work, sometimes for weeks at a time, and your very new relationship had mostly been long distance. Tonight though, he was going to be with you in the flesh and you were excited. Hell, you were horny. You could have gone out to dinner and a movie, but you’d insisted he came to your place for food and a cosy night in. You were desperate for it to happened – the third date how cliché.</p><p>“Too soon,” Krissy had said, and maybe she was right. This was the quickest you’d moved with anyone, but Donnie was different. The things you felt, things he made you feel, were different.</p><p>Anyway, you’d been in touch by phone and gotten to know each other. Sometimes a quick text, other times you’d talk for hours about each other’s lives. Mostly yours, he’d mentioned his work was confidential and all consuming, his colleagues not really friends but you’d get titbits. He’d been in the military but after losing his arm he’d gone into private security. Did he like it, you’d asked.</p><p>“I like the money. And I’m good at it…” he replied flatly.</p><p>“Oh?” not knowing were to take it.</p><p>“All jobs are shit though, right? Means to an end.”</p><p>“I guess.” And with that the conversation was muted.</p><p>But he did talk about his favourite movies and music and told some funny anecdotes about growing up. And if you were to count all of these conversations as dates then, if anything, this was a reserved courtship. That’s how you justified it. Did you need to justify it?</p><p>When he arrived he’d been so sweet. He’d brought food, from a local place you’d mentioned you liked. He’d greeted you with a soft kiss to the cheek and had placed his hand over yours during dinner, his thumb stroking your fingers. And when you looked into his blue eyes and listened to the sweet southern melody of his voice, it did nothing but fuel the flames of your desire.</p><p>Now he was sat on your couch, discarded take away containers on the nearby dining table, ‘watching’ a classic action flick he’d mentioned he liked. But his face was nuzzled to your neck and the fingers of his left-hand traced small circles on your thigh, moving slowly higher. His right, robotic arm draped over your shoulder, pulling you closer into the embrace. Soft lipped kisses and playful nips from his teeth moved down your jawline before he finally rested on your mouth. The kisses became fuller, open mouthed, his tongue exploring. His fleshy hand had moved from your inner thigh towards the curve of your behind grabbing it firmly through the fabric of your dress.</p><p>Lost in the moment, not knowing whose breath was whose. The movie long forgotten. Donnie repositioned you so that you were in the corner of the couch, adjusting your legs to either side of him. He was over you now and both hands, warm skin and cold steel, were pushing up the hem of your dress, to palm flesh and pull your hips closer to him, so you could feel the heat and weight of his body pressed firmly to yours. His hands started to roam, up and down, soft caresses and forceful gropes - seemingly not know where to settle or what approach to take. His movements weren’t tentative more that there was a sense of discovery or that he wanted everything all at once. His actions must have mimicked your own, you’d pulled his shirt from his jeans and your hands frantically explored his hot, muscular physique. His robotic hand settled on your lower back and guided your body. Rocking and grinding against Donnie and the hardening swell of him.</p><p>As hot and heavy as this was you needed more, you were conscious he was holding back. You were a good girl after all. That’s what he called you – sweet and pretty, and though it annoyed you when he said it, he was right. He saw you for who you were. He told you not to be upset, he liked it, he liked that you were ‘good’. But now you were worried he was abstaining over some sense of care or honour.</p><p>You needed to be bold and lust fuelled your confidence. You placed your hand between your bodies and down between his legs. The growl elicited from Donnie was feral and he stopped kissing you to move back and look into your eyes. The blue had all but gone leaving nothing but dark and a flash of wickedness – you had been right, he had been struggling to hold back.</p><p>You stroked again and another beastly sound but accompanied by a crooked smile and a little shake of the head as if to scold you for your teasing.</p><p>“Bedroom?” you whispered. Bold in action but your voice faltered a little.</p><p>“You sure sweetheart? We don’t need...” but he stopped as you moved your hand for a third time, giving him all the encouragement he needed.</p><p>He shot up and ripped you from the couch, picking you up as easily as child moves a ragdoll, coaxing a squeal and giggle from you.</p><p>“Where’s the bedroom?”</p><p>“Last door.” You pointed and before you knew it you were on the bed and he was stripping his t-shirt from his body, exposing his chiselled chest and stomach. Tanned skin marked by silvery scars, evidence of the brutality of his professional life. You gasped and drank him in.</p><p>“Take it off.” He barked. The growl was still there but this tone was how you imagined he’d order his men. The power it exuded made your core pulse hot with arousal.</p><p>You moved to your knees and hitched up your dress over your head revealing lacy lingerie you’d carefully selected. His turn. But you didn’t have the voice to command him. He got the gist when he followed your eyes as they focussed on his jeans. He began to unbuckle his belt and you bit your bottom lip in anticipation. He left his boxers on, but the sight produced your own little moan. They were tight and easily showed the outline of his cock. A dark patch further evidence of his own passions. It made you think of how wet your own underwear was.</p><p>The bed dipped as he knelt on it and stalked towards you. You lay back and he positioned himself over you, arms either side of you caging you in. He returned to the soft gentle kisses but now he was more vocal, his soft southern drawl making you melt under him.</p><p>“So pretty, baby…beautiful… so soft…God, baby….so good…” As he tracked down your body. His touch was gentle, his intentions focussed. He began at your neck then down to your shoulder, down past your collar bone (bringing the bra strap with his touch), down between the mounds of your breasts, pulling at your underwear to expose them. Only his human hand touched you in this way – for his or your pleasure you weren’t sure. It didn’t matter. A quick pause so that you could unclasp the bra from behind and discard it. His mouth focussed on your torso – soft kisses, gentle nips, the grazing of his noise and feel of hot breath on your curves all gained little mewls and helped to build the intense feeling within. His hand continued downward and moved to your most intimate place – embarrassed by the wet heat but yearning for him, all of him. His hand pressed firmly against you.</p><p>“So wet for me, baby?” he rasped looking into your eyes, you could only nod your response. “You really ready for me?”</p><p>In a weak voice you managed to muster, “Need you.”</p><p>He smiled, wide enough to expose his gold tooth.</p><p>“Soon baby.” He was in control of his desire, totally in control of you. Fingers curled around the top of your lace panties and rolled them down your legs before he broke his touch as he removed his boxers revealing his throbbing cock. Heat pooled in your core but enough crept up to your face for your cheeks to blush brightly. You swallowed both apprehension and desire.</p><p>He didn’t move back above you, instead his hand touched you, his fingers exploring folds and delving deeper. One entered. The noise your body made was thick with pleasure and desire. A second quickly followed and it felt good as he moved them in and out of you, twisting and working you open. You know he could make you climax like this, he knew too from the breathy moans escaping your body. But it wasn’t what you wanted. What you needed from him.</p><p>“Donnie.” you pleaded.</p><p>“Yeah baby?”</p><p>“Can.. I need …” Again looking into your eyes, he understood your meaning.</p><p>“Okay baby. You got something?”</p><p>You scrambled quickly to the cabinet drawer and reached for a condom. You gave it to him and lay back as he deftly put in on. He adjusted himself above you and lined himself with your entrance, teasing up and down, when he finally thrust forward your eyes rolled in the back of your skull. He was slow and it seemed there was more and more to come. You could feel your body stretch and couldn’t ever remember feeling so full. But he was tender and patient and you were glad that he took his time.</p><p>“So tight baby. How can you be so tight?” he whispered, “Never had a real man, huh baby?” Was this to himself or you? Unsure and lost in your own desires you could only make a little noise in response. Consumed only by the feel of Donnie and the blanket of lust that covered you. Then he started to move.</p><p>Careful and slow - he had decided you were delicate. Heat and wonderful tension continuing to build inside of you. Donnie was controlled and observant, you a mess beneath allowing him to devour you. But you could tell when his own pleasure became too much for even him to abate, primal urges taking over. Deeper and faster, he lowered his face to the crook of your neck.</p><p>“Donnie, I…” A warning that you were reaching your peak, and with that his thrusts intensified but it wasn’t this that pushed you over the crest of ecstasy. He placed his hand around your neck, there was hardly any pressure, but it pinned you in place between the bed and his mouth. The heat and weight of his body on top of your own brought the waves of pleasure down on you. Donnie now abandoned control in favour of desperately chasing his own release. Expletives fell from his lips and he came.</p><p>Breathless and dizzy. He stayed above and inside you after, offering wet, sloppy kisses, aimlessly placed, as you both came down from your euphoria. He fell on top of you and stayed there for a moment before rolling to his side. Panting, followed by a raspy chuckle and a gentle pat on your naked stomach.</p><p>“Good baby.” You were unsure if it were a question of statement, about the act or about you. It didn’t matter.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>